Blueberry Thyme Biscuits with Blueberry Honey

I have a generous herb garden which leads me to baking things like blueberry thyme biscuits which call for a slathering of blueberry honey made by bees that pollinated the blueberry bushes where I picked these berries.

These are not your normal savory biscuits. These are very much like my most favorite Southern fluffy biscuits, only much sweeter, full of freshly picked berries that I picked myself and kissed with just the right amount of fresh thyme that grows in my garden. Sounds very dreamy, very home ec “ish.” Sometimes I get to have those moments and I cherish them. Pairing blueberries (or any berry) with thyme pulls together two harmonious notes.

Thyme is one of the most versatile herbs that we in the South can grow year long. It makes its presence known, but not in an overpowering way. This bush is just one of my thyme bushes.

We are fortunate enough to have access to the honey made with bees who hung out at the blueberry bushes.

This has been the summer of love, growing things in the garden, picking fruits from bushes and trees, and cultivating herbs. For all the corporate promotions, big bonuses, and Four star hotel stays that I once experienced in a former career, this is the best part of my life. Of course, it’s all shared with children, friends, family, neighbors. If not for people, then it means nothing, although a solitude in the kitchen is, at times, much coveted.

I’m typing and gazing at a peach cobbler made with freshly picked peaches a friend dropped off. I’m about to put a buttermilk pie in the oven for company Retro Rose is having (she thinks I’m a baker and she places her order a week in advance). I’m using buttermilk another neighbor dropped off because know I’ll use up all the good ingredients they have too much of. I’m staring at watermelon that came from my friend’s farm and is about to become some kind of drink, but not sure yet. Agua Fresca perhaps?

Who wouldn’t want this life? Probably most people, because there is some kind of deception in the culture that this is less than, second class, not fun, and unsatisfying. Women that live like this are fat and homely and wear sweat pants all the time. I have to laugh because sometimes I come back from the gym and head straight to the kitchen in lycra gym pants way longer than I should.

But as unglamorous as a dirty kitchen and crumbs all over the floor is, I wake up happy each morning to face the day. I didn’t do that when I worked in a corporation. I woke up dreading the day, working for a boss who worked for a boss who worked for a boss, making pleasing everyone so complicated, and non-transferable in human heart terms. Not that I didn’t love that job at times, as I did. The Four Seasons Hotel in Chicago, paid for dinners in Manhattan, the frequent San Francisco trips, the shopping and money and not having to do a single dish all day, but, I really love this more. This is the what I’ll remember closer to my end. Most importantly, this is what the people I love will remember most about me.

Butter, flour, blueberries, buttermilk, thyme hand crafted into blueberry thyme biscuits can be sexy, can be rewarding. It’s really a matter of remembering what the grass is like on the other side. So tell me, are you right now living the best years of your life or are they somewhere in your future?

By the way, a few other Nashville food bloggers have been going as crazy with blueberries as I have. Check them out.

Shanna from Food Loves Writing also picked her own blueberries at a different Tennessee Farm and made Blueberry Buckle

Wow this really is blueberry month isn’t it? I just picked up another pint at the Farmer’s Market downtown this morning from the Amish…they were only $2.75 per pint which is a pretty good price.
Your biscuits are just amazing looking. I will add some “thyme” to mine next “time”.

I remember the thyme and the fragrance as we brushed past in my gardens at the house. We even had a type of thyme that grew between the stone pathway that was so fragrant when crushed underfoot. But I remember most the thyme honey I brought back from the island of Kea in Greece from the prolific wild thyme that grew every year. Such a special treat. It is time to make scones.

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